Lies and Secrets
by pimptav
Summary: AU: Tavros starts his new life in college with Gamzee and without Vriska looming over his shoulder.
1. Prologue

My dad loved my mom very much. He always said that he was madly in love with her. High school sweethearts; he was the punk kid and she was the outsider. They met after school one day, after my mom was involved in a fist fight. My dad didn't try to stop it, but he did admire her attitude. They talked, then they dated and then, according to my dad, they got…'busy' one night and that's how I showed up! My mom hated that she had to slow down her life for a kid, but my dad tells me that she loved me and that made up for it.

He never had a bad thing to say about her, except her cooking. But he even praised that. He loved everything about her, from her love of adventure to her stubbornness and determination. I've never heard him say anything bad about my mom.

We looked at pictures of her a lot when I was younger. He would sit in the big chair in the living room/kitchen and I would sit in his lap.

He would say things like "That's your mom…right there…" and, "She loved to rock climb and do all sorts of things…" He would then pinch my cheek and say that I had her spirit and smile.

One of my favorite pictures of her is with her standing by a big rock, ready to climb. She's smiling, as usual, and giving the camera a 'peace' sign. She looked so happy. She was always happy about something.

My dad said that she was one of those women that didn't take no for an answer, always looking for the next adventure. She said she wanted to go sky diving one summer but that's when she got really sick. The doctors told her to stop her adventures for the sake of her health. I was 4 at the time, so I didn't know how severe cancer is.

My dad said she didn't take no for an answer, so it was natural for her to be angry about being told to stay indoors all hours of the day. But she still kept her hopes up that one day her health would improve and she would go sky diving again. She always used to stare out the window, admiring the clouds, wishing she could soar through them. I think that's what I got from her. Her determination and her 'never wanting to give up' attitude, even if it looked bad or grim. I think I also got her determination to fly one day.

I miss my mom. One memory I have of her is when my dad, my mom and I were in a small, white room. It was a cold day and I was all buddled up for the weather. My father was trying to keep a brave face on and my mom was in the white bed, smiling over at us. She looked really weak, but still happy. I was holding my dad's hand, really tight, feeling like I was about to cry. My dad kept telling her that he loved her and that I was the best son anyone could ask for. I didn't understand why he was talking like that then.

She told me something that day that I still remember.

I was sat next to her on the hospital bed by my dad. I wasn't sure what was going on, so I continued to look up at my dad, wanting him to pick me back up. My mom took my small, cold hands into hers and I looked over at her. She was smiling sadly at me, on the verge of tears.

I wasn't sure what she was talking about, but I listened nonetheless.

But one thing she told me is something I try to tell myself everyday.

She was looking deep into my eyes, like she was trying to talk to my soul and not to me.

She said, with a stern look on her face, still smiling at me 'You are strong. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Don't let anyone tell you how you should live. And don't let anyone tell you are something you know you are not. And be a good boy for daddy…'

I didn't know what she meant then, but I still keep that memory in my heart. But, it started to get difficult to remember once Vriska came around.

I met her when I was six years old, and my dad and I were admiring the birds in the sky. It was a really bright day and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was an anniversary, but my dad didn't tell me what it was for then. I know what the anniversary is now, but we never say it. It's one of those things that families just…know.

We went to the same park every year, around the same time, and we still do. We haven't missed a year yet. Even when I got a new sister and a new mom.

Vriska still has the black hair she had back then, much longer and wavier now, like her mom's. She has always been really pale and had a smirk on her face. I've only ever seen her frown once.

When I first met her, she was staring up at me, scowling, gripping her mom's hand tight as our parents talked about nothing. I'm not sure what they talked about because I was too busy trying to not look at Vriska. But I found myself looking back at her every few seconds to see if she was still staring at me behind her thick rimmed glasses. She wasn't mean or anything, but she continued to stare at me in envy or anger until my dad put me back down on the ground. Vriska was shorter than me, by about an inch or two, and a year older than me. (She got held back in kindergarten, so she was in my grade at the time). She still always seemed to be looking up at me though until I got my wheelchair. But, more on that later.

Her mom was really nice, not like my birth mom at all though. I really admired her hair then; really long and wavy, a nice contrast to her pale skin. She had a slight smirk on her face, that my dad seemed to fancy. I didn't understand what she was talking about then. Now I do and I feel like my dad…well, she was fishing and my dad took the hook without thinking, to say it bluntly. I still think that he only ever married her for her money and her body. But, 12 years later, they're still married and living in the same house.

But anyway, when Vriska and her mom moved in a year and a half after we first met them, after a really weird wedding. It was easier on my dad and me because Vriska's mom had a high-income job as manager of some hotel. My dad and I were struggling to get by before she joined our family.

Vriska roomed down the hall from me, in the used-to-be guest room. This made it easier for her to sneak down the hall and disturb my sleeping and games whenever she pleased. . She did this a lot when she moved in, up into high school even. It was an everyday thing that eventually just became routine. Until her mom found out that she was doing more than just calling me mean names. Vriska used to get a rubber band and paper and give me what she called 'the hornet'. It hurt really badly, and she usually did it in the same spot. Every. Single. Time. She said that it was for my own good, making me tougher and giving me harder skin, but I don't get how doing stuff like that would help me out at all! She said she loved me, and then she just called me a loser right after. She has always been an odd step-sister.

I still tattled on her regardless of her reasons. But, Vriska never stopped for anything, not even when my step-mom threatened to take her things away. I think Vriska only did the things she did because she cared for me or was envious of me. She never knew her dad, and I've always known both of my parents.

I didn't hate her though – I couldn't bring myself to hate her even though she lashed out at me constantly. She was the only friend I had for a while. She helped me grow up in a way, even if it wasn't the best way. Being an only child before she came around was really tough: I really didn't know how to talk to new people and I was usually just alone, eating my dad's enchiladas in the corner of the lunch room. Vriska always said that I didn't deserve any friends other than her, but it seemed that she never had many friends either. I thought I would never have any friends, until I met Gamzee, of course.

He was taller than me, lightly tanned with a wavy, curly black mop of hair on his head. He didn't smell _bad_, per se, but he didn't smell particularly _good_ either. He smelled like dirty sheets and garlic.

All he wanted was the tuna sandwich that my step-mom made me. . I told him he could have it, and I expected him to take it and leave. But no, he sat down right next to me and chowed that sandwich down, like he hadn't eaten in ages. He looked really hungry and thin, painfully thin, so I asked him if he wanted to come over for dinner that night. We've been inseparable ever since.

That night he came over was a good memory; an experience really. Vriska was absolutely disgusted by him, saying that he smelled like trash and other profane words that I won't repeat. My step-mom patted Vriska's head and said hello to Gamzee, welcoming him to our home. Vriska just grumbled and scowled through the visit.

What Gamzee said next humiliated my step-mom, made Vriska hate him even more, and make my dad only laugh, so hard that it seemed like he could barely breathe. It only made me even more fascinated by him.

Gamzee looked up at her, smiling big and proud, his hair still a mess.

He smirked and said, in the most casual way, "Hey there, hot stuff. Nice tits."

He got a good smack in the face for it, making even my head hurt. Vriska gasped loudly and shouted a curse, her getting a whack in the head as well.

That didn't stop me from being friends with him, no way. It only made me like him more. In the way that I loved his confidence and how he was never afraid to speak his mind, like how I wanted to be and how I think Vriska was trying to force me to be.

We had enchiladas that night, again. Gamzee absolutely loved enchiladas. I'm not sure if he really meant that, or if he was just trying to be nice to everyone after what he said. But he still devoured the food like he did the tuna sandwich. Vriska did unscrew the salt shaker a bit to make all of the salt pour on Gamzee's food, though. He just laughed and he still ate up every last speck of food, not leaving a salt grain behind.

He got pretty sick afterwards, though, making him puke up all that he ate into the bathroom toilet. My step-mom didn't mind. She knew it was just the salt, not her cooking. Vriska just snickered in the background.

Gamzee and I hung out almost everyday after that incident. If we didn't hang one day, we would be usually talking over the phone or texting each other. We always had something to talk about. It made it easier to get through the day.

Gamzee and I were like…peas and carrots, or, peanut butter and jelly, we were just the best of bros. It was uncommon to see one of us without the other. The only time that happened when one of us got sick and had to stay home from school. It was more often than not that Gamzee would stay home, leaving me alone at school. I didn't mind though. I knew that Gamzee would be okay.

No matter what I would say or do, Vriska never seemed to like Gamzee. I'm still not sure why, but she always kept her guard up when he was around, always ready to fight with him. I've never seen them actually fight physically though, not even that much verbally. They kept their distances most of the time, but were always aware that the other was there.

The next two years in middle school were great. I didn't get my first kiss or anything like that, but I did almost win a talent show.

Gamzee and I were starting to have rap battles when we hung out after school and he really wanted to do a rap-off for the school talent show. I was worried that I would mess up horribly, but Gamzee convinced me not to worry, and we went through with the rap-off.

We got a lot of 'boos' and 'get of the stage' but also quite a bit of cheering. We still finished up the rap battle with pride, not really caring what the audience thought. It was just for fun, right?

Gamzee said he didn't care that we got 'booed, he just loved to rap.

I did meet Dave for the first time that night. He said that I was a tool. I still don't quite know the connotations of that word.

When the last year of middle school finally ended, Gamzee said that he had to go on a trip during the summer. Gamzee never went on a trip of any kind, so I was confused by his sudden desire to go. He said not to worry about it and that he would still text and or call me every chance he got. And he did, which was about once or twice every two days. It was the worst summer ever.

I stayed home a lot that summer. I played video games for hours, even cleaned up my room some, but it didn't make the summer any better, pass any faster, or make Gamzee text anymore than he did. I was bored to tears some nights. Until, one night, Dave called and asked if I wanted to go see a movie. He didn't tell me what the movie was, only that I needed to hurry up.

Vriska said that I should totally go. 'Do something fun, Tavros, don't be such a loser!' she said, trying to convince me to go in all of the wrong ways. I mean, I wanted to go in the first place, but Vriska's egging somehow made me want to go that much more. I always listened to my step-sister.

His older brother came to pick me up an hour later in a pretty nice pick-up, and I admired it as it pulled into the short driveway. The inside wasn't as great though: there were food wrappers and cans all over the passenger side floor, and all of the seats in the back were covered in vinyl records and some weird colorful stuffed creatures. Dave's brother had to raise the cup holder in the center in order to make room for Dave and me. Despite this, it's a real shame that the truck got totaled.

I sat in the passenger's seat, and Dave was scrunched up between his brother and me. Dave and his older brother were probably the only other people that I looked up to. They rapped too, and Dave was one of the people that booed Gamzee and I at the talent show in middle school. I would never win a rap-off with him, but I always tried anyway. He still called me a 'tool' no matter what I did to 'improve' in his eyes.

Dave's older brother was different. He liked to rap too, but he had a love of puppets and something called 'smuppets' – probably those colorful things that were in the back of his truck, and the one that was sitting on the dashboard. I didn't bother to ask about them and tried not to stare at it too much.

They said that we all were lucky to survive. The car hit us head on. It was about the same size as Dave's brothers; both trucks were completely totaled.

The crash broke both of Dave's brother's femurs and his right arm. It broke Dave's whole right leg, hip to foot. He also fractured his left tibia and hurt his neck from the whiplash. They were repairable, only of stitches and casts for a few months for the both of them. I wasn't so lucky.

The impact was so bad on my knees and down, they were broken beyond repair. I also fractured my left wrist.

My dad would not shut up about trying to save my legs to the doctors. I didn't really see him complaining because my vision was blurred, but I could hear in his voice that he was pretty shaken up. I couldn't feel my legs, so I didn't really mind that I was going to lose them. I also heard my step-mom crying. I'm not sure where Vriska was.

Everyone was scrambling to see if I was okay, trying to save me and telling me that it was going to be okay. I didn't think it was that bad; until the doctors talked of surgery.

The surgery was really early, or really late, depending on how you want to look at it. It was really weird, waking up the next day, not sure of what time it was, and not being able to see you try and wiggle your toes.

It's really weird. Because, even though I didn't have my lower legs and feet, I still felt them. Like, it really felt like they were there, but I knew that they weren't. The doctors said that it was because the nerves are still firing for my lower legs and toes. They also itched sometimes too, which was really, _really _weird. The doctors said that's normal, so I didn't think much of it.

I losing my legs didn't change my outlook on life. If anything, it made me more hopeful that better things were to come. It made me…me I guess, losing my legs and all, made me want to try to be more independent.

I told my parents that I didn't want to get prosthetic legs and that I was fine with my wheelchair. They didn't buy it at first, but I still have my wheelchair to this day. In the end, I really did want prosthetic legs, but they were so expensive that I didn't want my parents to worry about it. I would get them one day, when I had the money to.

I wasn't sure how I was going to tell Gamzee. He hated to see me hurt, and he had to see me in a wheelchair after being gone all summer. That's a great way to start high school, huh? I didn't text him or call him because I didn't want to bother him. By this time, Gamzee had only called me once or twice since the accident, and texted once or twice a week just to say 'hi'. And school was starting in less than 3 weeks. I was worried about what I would say to him, but I knew that he would still be my best bro no matter what, that Gamzee wouldn't stop being friends with me because of a car wreck. I felt that he really cared for me, and that he would never care what other people thought of me.

When high school started up, I was really nervous because I was now the 'guy in the wheelchair' according to Vriska. I was only worried about what they would think. I was mostly excited to see Gamzee again after and entire summer break of not seeing him, so I didn't care what they thought.

Gamzee was waiting in the car loop, as if he knew that I would be there. I didn't care, I was about to see my best bro after a long and… eventful summer. I wasn't too worried about what he was going to say about my legs, I knew he was definitely not one to judge. I hoped he wouldn't ask what happened.

I remember that Vriska _flew _out of the car, wanting to get as far away as possible from us. I also remember Gamzee was…well, I'm not sure how to describe it. He wasn't happy, but he wasn't mad either. He and Vriska still didn't like each other.

But his whole mood visibly changed when he saw my dad get the wheelchair from the trunk. I was too busy trying to get Gamzee's attention by opening the door and calling out to him to notice that he was confused as anything.

It took him a second or two to add everything up; the wheelchair, the loss of limbs, Vriska running off, me still being ecstatic to see him, my dad still indifferent about the whole situation. He stared at me for a few seconds, awestruck and happy to see me again. I wasn't sure what he was thinking at the time, or what to say. So I just sat there, waiting.

'What happened…?' he breathed out.

I looked down at my lap, frowning a bit. I looked back up at him, smiling again. 'How was the…the trip, Gamzee?' I asked, trying to change the subject.

He didn't say much other than that he wished he hadn't gone.

I remember that he pushed me around school the first day. I think he only did that because he felt bad for being gone all summer. I hope he didn't feel responsible for what happened.

He did continue to wheel me around school when I was really tired throughout the years. Kids would make fun of us, but Gamzee and I usually ignored them with the least amount of effort, continuing our rapping and card games. We continued to hang out everyday, no matter what, even if it was just at school, we always talked at least once a day. It was like that for 3 ½ years.

We did everything together. Some days, he would pull up in his hand-me-down car to take me off to school. He only did that on Fridays when we were going to hang that night; we only hung out on Fridays about once a month, though. Gamzee was too busy working everyday at the bakery to save up for a pair of prosthetic legs.

I kept telling and telling him that he should not save the money for me that I didn't need new legs and, even if I did, I would save my own money for them. But he wouldn't budge. I really felt that he blamed himself for the whole thing, but it wasn't his fault the truck hit us. I told him that he should save it up for college, to buy food and other necessities. But, no matter what I said, he would still give me ¾'s of his paycheck to put into my savings once a week. I was close to $300 now.

My family was grateful for him and treated him to dinner a lot. No one in my family seemed to mind that he was around; it would be unusual if he wasn't. No one bothered to ask about his family life because he never liked to talk about it. No one, except Vriska, saw him as a bad influence on me because I always spoke high of him. He was like an adoptive son to my parents. That is, until Vriska found him behind the school one day, doing things he shouldn't.

He told everyone, even the school, that it was a one time thing. That he had a really bad first experience and never wanted to touch the stuff again. My parents didn't believe him, of course, and I still don't understand why. Vriska was really on his case, asking him the most questions. It was Vriska's idea to never let me talk to him again. I don't think my parents would have forgiven him. But, something Vriska said made them change their minds. Something she did made my parents never want me to talk to him again.

'Once on drugs, always on drugs' and 'He's a _bad _influence on Tavros and he always will be!' And, to top it all off, 'If Tavros keeps talking to Gamzee, he might start doing drugs too!'

My parents took about 1 or 2 hours to finally come to the verdict that I wasn't allowed to hang out with Gamzee after school anymore. That I had to come straight home after school, with Vriska as the driver. Worst. Decision. Ever.

Worst. Semester. Ever.

Worst….everything.

We would still talk, Gamzee and I, but only when Vriska wasn't around or when she was sick. My parents would take me to school those days. We would skip class too, just to hang out and talk. But that ended quickly. My dad was more lenient about Gamzee. He liked Gamzee, mainly because he liked him better than he liked Vriska. Which _sounds _bad, but it really wasn't. He knew how Vriska was, he knew that she was over-protective, but kept his mouth shut for the sake of my step-mom and the stability of our family. He did this to please everyone. He loved my step-mom, don't get me wrong. But I think he didn't end the marriage yet because he didn't want me to have lost two moms in my life.

By this time, I didn't care what they thought. I just missed Gamzee. It was so weird not being able to see him after school and talking to him over the phone (I still did some nights, but shhhhh…). We did have one class together though, every other day. But the teacher was so strict that we never had a chance to talk. It was a math class, and if we weren't taking notes, he would give us a _long _ass speech about math and education and blah, blah, blah. No one liked it and we always blamed the person who caused it. Gamzee and I would pass a note or two, when he wasn't looking, asking how the other was doing. We got a write-up for it once. We also always got in a group together when the teacher wanted us to work out a few math problems. Gamzee didn't understand the math, so it was usually just me talking and trying to explain it to him. It was funny, how he didn't understand math. He always gave me _exactly _¾'s of his paycheck, yet, not good in math. But, it only meant that I could hang with him more, and that is that.

At the end of the school year, I was still the Latino crippled kid and Gamzee was still the Italian…well, not _pot-head_, but he was definitely out there, and he quit the drugs anyway, so...

The summer was just great. Gamzee and I still didn't talk that much at the beginning, but we still talked when we could, hanging out when we could. Until my step-mom eventually gave up and forgave him. Vriska was still mad at him, but she couldn't say much other than how much of a bad influence he still was on me and how much she _absolutely despised_ him. My parents got tired of it after a while.

We had enchiladas when he came back that night for dinner. No salt was needed.

Gamzee and I were still peas and carrots, peanut butter and jelly, the best bros ever. When summer ended, went off to the same college together. I'm not sure how he got in; maybe he was using that ¼ of his paycheck to save up? He did work for 4 years, everyday, 4-10… I'm not sure how he did it, maybe scholarships too, but he did! He has a dorm right down the hall from me.

We only have one class together, but we have three of the same classes, just different times. So I'm thinking that we will probably study a lot together. The only down side of having only one class with him is that I have to wheel myself around. I'm not saying that I _can't _or that I _don't _want to do that or anything. I just don't know the campus that well yet. Yes, the teachers know I'm disabled and they know I might be late. I just don't want it to become a regular thing. I'm sure I'll find a classmate or two to help me around.

All I know is that I can't wait to start living life on my own. I don't have to deal with my parents everyday, but they will visit me every chance they get. They are still together, but I feel like they might break it off soon. Vriska is off at another college, but she said that she will text me or call me every chance she gets. I hope it's not _every _single day. Not that I would mind, or anything, it would just become a kind of uncomfortable routine, I guess.

I have my favorite picture of my mom, the one with her about to rock climb, on my desk, along with a picture of her and my dad together. I have a dorm to myself because of my wheelchair, but I plan to have Gamzee over a lot because he _is _my best bro. I can't wait to have him over for rap-battles and movie night and just over for the fun of it. We plan to study some as well, but studying isn't first priority, of course.

Gamzee, on the other hand, has a roommate. Not sure who it is yet, but apparently he is really good with computers and making computer programs. I really hope he doesn't hack my computer or anything. If anything, I hope that he fixes my computer if it crashes or has a bug.

If anything, I'm just glad that I'm more independent now. I don't have to worry about my parents or Vriska or anything that I don't want to worry about. I can just hang out with Gamzee and sleep all day and study when I feel like it.

This is going to be a great four years….


	2. Chapter 1

**Okay, this chapter is like…10 pages long…so this is my warning to you all. **

**But it's worth it! I hope! **

**Thank you to shroomich from Tumblr! She helped edit it and revise it and all of it. **

**All 10 pages!**

**Anyway, this is the first chapter of like…I really don't know how many, but I'm planning to have a lot of relationship issues and many different pairings and drama and you know BLAH... Just another warning there. **

**And like…a lot of trigger warnings and shit I guess? **

**But anyway, enjoy! 10 pages long, so, be ready!**

* * *

><p>My first morning, I had literature class at 9:35. It was difficult to find a good seat – or any seat, because this classroom didn't have a handicapped seat or a place to fold my wheelchair up. So I ended up just sitting by the wall, somewhere out of the way, book bag in my lap and head high. I wasn't embarrassed or anything, I was just worried I would have to sit next to the wall for every class. I was going to tell the teacher first thing that I would like a handicap seat or something to be installed in the room.<p>

Unfortunately, I never even got to see the teacher. The class ended up being canceled after 15 minutes of sitting around. We were told that teacher wouldn't show up at all. Apparently he had an incredibly busy schedule today, had to practically be in two places at once – this classroom one of them – and his other appointment must have taken priority.

The administrator that came in and told us that class was cancelled said that they, the school, has been trying to fix this problem for about a week. Some of the students were really pissed about it, as if they felt that this year was off to a terrible start and that it wouldn't get better. But it meant that I could talk to someone to get a handicapped seat for this class, get used to the campus for a few hours, or even get that haircut that I've been putting off.

So after that incident, for about a half hour, I sat in one of the campus's park areas to eat a snack I had brought along with me. It was a bit chilly, kind of breezy, too, and in the sky were large, puffy clouds, bright with sunlight. I had a coat on, shielding my arms from the chill of the draft. I didn't own a scarf, so my neck and head were open to all of the elements. It wasn't a big deal to me; I love cool weather.

For the rest of the time, I wheeled my way around campus, getting used to the sidewalks and building placements and the amount of people on the campus. And the traffic. Oh man, the traffic. I was scared I was going to get hit three or four times by speeding trucks and stupid drivers. Not really the best way to start out my life on campus.

Speaking of, the campus is massive. There are about fifty or more buildings, and I only had classes in about three of them today. My dad and I tried to schedule my classes in a way that wouldn't be too much trouble for me as far as getting around was concerned. I only have five classes this semester, too, so it's not like my schedule will harm me academically.

My teachers should be okay with it if I'm late once in a while. I imagine they should be since my dad and I went through this whole process of telling the school about my disability and my wheelchair. So much paperwork…so little time.

Okay, back to my four hour break.

I tried to get around seeing every building, but there were so many, I ended up stopping after I saw some of the math and art buildings. That's when I passed a place where I could get my haircut. It was near the cosmetology building. I figured it must be a good place to get a haircut.

It was a Spa looking place, and I felt like I was the only guy there. Women were everywhere, and all over me once I rolled into the place. They just kept coming!

They were telling me how cute I was and how much they wanted me to meet their daughters…and sons! Some of them even kissed my cheeks and complimented me on my upper arm strength. How embarrassing was that? I just wanted to get a haircut, not kisses.

I was in a whole new place though, so I figured that I would have to get used to it. I don't think anyone in this college town has seen a disabled college student.

They were probably only nice to me because I was disabled. I don't like when people do that. Though, they did say I was 'just the cutest thing that they ever did see!' which I guess was a compliment. Vriska did say that people would treat me differently here. She knows more than I thought.

* * *

><p>"Now…I think I might be done." The hair stylist tells me, buzzing some hair off the left side of my head.<p>

With my eyes tightly shut, shoulders tense under the hair apron, I tried to sit as still as possible. I'm not scared of haircuts or anything, I'm just nervous about how I'm going to look after this.

I decided on getting a mohawk style hair cut, mainly because my hair had been starting to bug my ears. I've wanted to get a mohawk since I was in middle school, but my step-mom always said 'no way'. My dad said it would be a great idea for me to get one because it would help me stand out. My step-mom just wouldn't hear it and neither would Vriska. Now that I'm on my own, I don't have to listen to what any of them say.

I open one of my eyes slightly at some point to see how the cut is going, and I see a blurry image of myself in the mirror mounted in front of me and of the lady standing behind me, her razor still grooming behind my ears. Not bad.

"Okay, just one more thing," she says to me, walking from behind me to her table. I hear her put the electric razor down and pick up something else.

Finally unable to resist seeing the result of her work, I open my eyes fully, staring at myself in the mirror. My hair is just gone on both sides of my head and a thick strip of hair hangs in my face.

The feeling of having almost no hair is really bizarre, like a weird weight is off my shoulders, except instead of my shoulders, it's my head.

I want to run my fingers through my mohawk and style it some – slicking it back, brushing it forward, brushing it to the side – but the woman still was snipping at the lose ends of my mohawk to make me look my best. I'm only able to stare at my new hairstyle, smiling massively.

The hair stylist was now fluffing my mohawk some and snipping off some pieces of hair that were too long. I tried to look over to her, standing on my left, not wanting to move my head and possibly ruin it when it's almost done. I look back into the mirror, when finally she stops to walk in front of me.

"Do you want to keep this part in the front?" She asks me, holding onto a bit of my hair that was in my face.

I look up at her and say "Yes, please," with a massive smile on my face.

She smiles, letting my hair fall back in my face. "Oh, alright, you cutie pie," she says, ruffling up my mohawk again. I roll my eyes, my smile fading some.

"Do you like it?" the woman asks stepping behind me. She gazes into the mirror with me as she starts to comb my hair back, my locks falling back forward when her fingers started to style it again.

"Oh, I love it!" I exclaim. "I love it very much, thank you." I tell her, beaming once again.

The lady smiles and moves back around me to put her scissors away. "I'm glad you do, sweetheart."

I laugh softly, blushing some. No one has ever called me sweetheart before.

"I…I love it, thank you." I say again, still smiling as she unbuttons the apron.

Her voice is bright and pleased as she speaks, "I'm very glad you do," she repeats. She removes the apron and begins to fold it up.

"I do, I do," I say, fluffing and playing with my hair. It's really soft now for some reason. My hair always seems to get really soft after getting a hair cut.

I continue to style it while I wait for the hair stylist to get my wheelchair from the wall. I would have gotten it myself, but she put it so far away from this chair for some reason. It's like she wanted to get it for me afterwards, so she put it far away from me so she could.

When she finished unfolding my wheelchair, I look over at it. It wasn't going to be that much of an effort to get into the chair. I had a hunch that the hair stylist wanted to help me.

After a bunch of 'No, no, I got this'-es from me and a bunch of 'Are you sure?'-s from the lady, I'm finally able to wheel myself around. The lady is nice, but maybe a little too nice for my comfort.

"I really don't believe that you're in college!" She said after we both got into the entrance room of the Spa. She spins on her heel to face me, gushing, "You seem like you're still supposed to be in high school!"

I really hate when people say that – I mean, say that I look younger than I am. It seemed rude to say so, though, so I continued to chat as though unperturbed.

"Yeah, yeah, everyone says that," I say, shifting in my chair a bit nervously. I'm really anxious to get out of here right now. I don't want to be late for my next, technically first, class of the day.

The lady smiles gently at me and stands in front of me for a bit, seeming unsure of what to say next.

I quickly change the topic. "H-How much will that be?" I ask, opening the book bag in my lap to find my wallet. I know it's in here somewhere, I'm sure I put it in my bag this morning.

Or did I leave it on my bed….

Shoot.

"Oh dear, you're fine, cutie pie" the lady tells me, waving her hand at me as if to say 'Oh, you'. "It's on the house."

I sighed and looked up at her, my arms slumping in my lap. "Are…are you sure?" I don't know why I'm so flustered right now. It might have been the fact that I hate when people give me stuff for free. It's because I'm disabled, simple as that, nothing more.

The lady smiles and giggles. "Yes, yes, sweetheart." I felt my face turn redder. "It's on the house. Besides, don't you have somewhere to be?" She asks, raising an eyebrow at me knowingly.

Suddenly I remember that I only have 30 minutes left to get to class.

"Oh, yes, thank you!" I yell out, surprising myself with the volume of my voice. I make sure that my book bag won't fall out of my lap before I grab both wheels. "Th-Thank you for the hair cut, miss," I say a bit softer.

The lady laughs well naturedly. "Oh, you can just call me Lily."

I nod and say, "Thank you, Lily."

* * *

><p>The math building is where I'm heading next, and it's maybe 10 minutes away from the Spa. I probably should have considered the weather before I got a hair cut. My head is freezing right now, and my ears and face are cherry red because of it. I'll probably buy a hat and a scarf once winter comes around. I'll probably go shopping with Gamzee this weekend, actually, so I can take care of it then.<p>

Anyway, according to the college online site, the math class is pretty small: only about thirty students, compared to almost one hundred students in some of my other classes. It doesn't bug me too much that I might have to speak up in my math class once in a while. I was okay at math; not _great_, but okay. This meant that I wouldn't have to ask many questions – but it also meant that I might have to give answers if asked.

I'm nervous, but full of excitement as I wheel myself up to the front entrance of the math building. It's 2:05 PM and class begins at 2:20 PM. The class is on the first floor, but I want to get there early to talk to the teacher and find a good, vacant place in the class to sit with my wheelchair. A seat in the front row would be nice, but not right in the middle because I don't want to get in anyone's way if I ever end up being a bit late. Hopefully the class will have a handicapped seat, unlike my Lit class.

When I got to the front door, I realized that I had to open the door manually. I let my head fall back, defeated, sighing aggravated. It's not a total downer, but it is kind of annoying that I have to go through this trouble.

"Hey, I'll get that for ya," Comes a voice from behind me. I turn my head to get a look at the helpful individual, and see another student: his clothes seem casual enough to not be a professor, anyway. Worn-looking jeans, a black band T-shirt and some yellow Converses. He appears otherwise unkempt as well – including his hair, which sticks up atrociously around the arms of his rimless glasses. He looks lazy, not apparently caring about his appearance – but he definitely managed his hygiene well enough.

"Great, thanks," I mumble weakly. I would have liked to open it on my own, but I'm not about to say that and risk sounding rude to this guy I don't even know. It's probably stupid to worry about that. Plus, he's obviously entering the building too, it'd be troublesome to wait for the cripple to wrestle the door open.

I wheel my chair out of the way of the entrance and watch him walk past me to open it. He has a small, sagging book bag on one shoulder, a tell-tale sign of a hefty book or laptop.

"What happened to you?" he asks casually as he looks at me, holding the door wide open for me to go first.

I hated going into detail about what put me in this chair. So before I wheeled myself inside, I look down at my lap and say, as vaguely and guarded as possible, "Car wreck…"

The responses are always the same, and this guy's is no exception: his voice drops and he says, "Oh," sounding obviously as though walking on eggshells, and definitely curious.

"I'm so used to people asking, so it's okay," I tell him, smiling to show that it's not a big deal before wheeling myself inside.

"I didn't mean to bring it up…" he says, walking in behind me.

"It's okay!" I say to him, wheeling myself around to face him.

"Okay… and my name's Th-" He stops and breathes a gusty sigh, obviously annoyed, slouching and looking embarrassed about something. I cock an eyebrow at him, wondering what's up with the sudden mood change. Not even a moment later, he corrects his posture and states, "The name's Sollux, if you were wondering."

"I'm Tavros…T-Tavros Nitram…" I stutter, wondering if I have a weird or embarrassing speech or verbal malfunction too.

"Tavros? _Tavros_ Nitram?"

I glance up at him, perplexed by his reaction. He said my name like he knew me or someone told him my name, or like I was a secret agent about to go on an adventure or something. I'm not sure if the way he said it was good or if it was bad.

"Do you know me?" I ask, trying not to sound too excited.

Sollux blinks at me a couple of times, as though trying to understand something. "Yeah, yeah. I…I think I heard about you from my roommate."

"Who's your roommate?" I inquire, wondering who here would talk about me to a total stranger.

"Yeah…" he starts, "I met him just this morning…and he's like…" he stopped for a second, looking away again. He started making a motion with his hands, like he was fluffing some cotton or tissue paper in a present. "He's like…an Italian guy?"

Oh! This guy was Gamzee's roommate! I might see Sollux a lot more now, huh?

"You mean Gamzee?" I ask, trying to hide my excitement.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, that guy…." Sollux confirms, pointing at me. He snickered and lets his arm fall, shaking his head. "He's a weird guy."

I laugh along easily, agreeing, "Yeah he is. I've been friends with him since middle school." I tell him. "He's my best bro."

"Wow, that long?" he asks, surprised, "Damn! I can't stand the guy for two minutes."

"Well, that's too bad." I had been picking at my fingernails and I didn't even catch it until just now. I don't get why I'm so nervous about talking to Sollux. "He's a really cool guy once you get to know him and all; he's really generous, too." I force myself to stop picking at my nails by holding on my arm rests and look up at Sollux. "He says he's going to buy me prosthetic legs one day."

"Yeah, he told me something about that. Not like I was paying too much attention, but he did mention it."

My eyes widen a bit. "Why was he telling you about that?" I look away, thinking out loud. "It's not like I care that Gamzee told anyone. I just figured that he had better things to talk about than getting me prosthetic legs."

Sollux shrugs at the question, adjusting his book bag on his shoulder. "We were talking about getting a new stove 'cauthe –" he sighed again, apparently annoyed by his lisp.

He gulps once, as if trying to suppress the lisp, and begins talking again: "Because," He pauses, "We need a new stove for our dorm because the one we have won't turn on. It's completely busted. Gayzee or whatever said he had money, but that he was saving it for something and then yada, yada, yada," he waves his hand holding his book bag indifferently, "I found out about your soon to be new legs and now I have to dig up some money for a new stove top."

"Wow um…" I'm not sure what to say about this information. "That's some…story, I guess," I said, almost dully.

Gamzee loves to cook, so I'm kind of confused about why he's not using at least $30 or so from his savings to get a new stove. I don't need new legs _that _bad. I can get around in my wheelchair just fine. It gets me free haircuts, anyway, if it really was free of charge because of that.

"He says that's all he's working for," Sollux mentions after some silence.

I blink at him, wondering what he was talking about. "Working for what?"

"Those proth-oh my god," he smacks himself on the head, exasperated. "Those _prosthetic_…legs." He emphasizes, hand falling back to his side.

"I really wish Gamzee would spend his money on more important stuff, like food and a new stove," I mumble, pausing to think, "And he has school to worry about now, so…" I sigh, looking down at my thighs, picking at my fingernails again. "My legs can wait."

"He really does seem to care a lot about you…" Sollux says out of the blue.

"What do you mean?" I ask tentatively, trying to keep my expression even as I look back up at him.

Sollux shrugged again. "I don't mean anything by saying that," he defends, looking away from me. "From the time we met to the time I left for class, Gamzee said something about you every ten minutes or so." His face twists into a small scowl. "It was kind of annoying, actually."

I'm too busy thinking about what Gamzee was doing to hear what Sollux was saying. I never knew Gamzee talked about me _that _much. We're best bros and all, but…I don't know. How much he talks about me won't stop me from being friends with him or anything, obviously – it's flattering, if I'm being honest. It's just something I have to keep a mental note on and ask about later.

"I say just be glad that you're gonna be able to walk soon."

I shake my head, getting out of that trance and look up at him. I didn't realize that I was sort of hypnotized by the thought of Gamzee talking about me.

"Sorry, what?" I ask, trying not to sound rude.

"I said that just be glad that you're going to be able to walk soon…that wheelchair must suck to get around in," Sollux motions to the wheelchair while speaking.

I smile, looking down and grabbing onto my armrests. "No, no I-I'm fine with my wheelchair. I've been riding around in this baby ever since freshman year in high school." I can feel Sollux's surprise at this even though I'm not looking at him. Everyone is always so surprised when I tell them I've been in a wheel chair for five years. "I just wish Gamzee wouldn't waste his study time to work to save up for me." I say in a quiet voice.

The space around the two of us became painfully quiet despite the noise of the passersby chatting around us. Sollux speaks up after a few moments, and I look up to see him scowling down, "You should be grateful."

"I – I am!" I cry, defending myself. "I just…" I'm not sure what else to say at this point. I'm making a fool of myself.

I just sigh, slumping back into my chair once more, hands falling off of my armrests.

I feel drained, thinking about all of this at once. I feel bad for not being as grateful as I should be about what Gamzee is trying to do for me. I just feel like… like he should worry about himself sometimes. He's been saving up for me for so long: I thought he would have given up by now.

"I think that Gamzee should worry about himself for a while," I finally state carefully. "He's been saving up since freshmen year in high school." I mumble. I look up to see that Sollux still has a disgruntled look on his face. I have to convince him that I'm grateful; I just want what's best for Gamzee. "A-And it's not that I'm not grateful for what he has done or anything, i-it's just that…" I'm not sure what to say at this point. I look back down at my lap. "I don't know…I feel kinda bad now…"

"I think I get what you mean, dude," Sollux finally says, making me look back up at him, "but I think that you should be happy that you might be able to walk again soon. That's all I'm saying."

"Yeah, I know…" I look up at the clock mounted on the far wall, seeing that it's 2:17 PM.

"Ah, shit!" I exclaim, sitting up quickly and grasping my wheels. I must have scared Sollux, who followed my gaze to the clock, looking kind of startled.

"What?" he asks lost.

"I might be late for class!" I tell him, "Shit!"

"What class do you have?" He asks, looking over at me.

I scramble to find the piece of paper with my schedule on it in my book bag. It know it's in there. Where, though, I don't know. I open each zipper and dig in every pocket frantically for it.

I did eventually find it. I unfold the paper and scan it to find the classroom number. "Math 110…room, uh…" I move my face in closer to the paper to read and get the room just right. "GH 506…"

Sollux chuckles, adjusting his book bag strap again. "That's the same class I have."

I looked up at him, gripping the paper more, smiling. "Th-That's awesome…!"

"Yeah, yeah, I guess so…" he says, laughing a bit. He walks around behind my wheelchair, and I watch him as he does so, wondering what he was doing. Isn't he supposed to be going, too?

He grabs onto the handles of my wheelchair and bends over my shoulder to talk in my ear. My breath stops short, feeling him leaning so closely. It's not like I was nervous, or anything, it was just a weird thing to do.

"You don't mind, do you?" Sollux asks, sounding like he would help regardless of the answer.

"O-Of course not!" I said a bit too loud. I seriously need to figure out how to control my volume.

"It's the least I could do to make up for what I said before." He told me ,standing back up straight.

"I-It's alright…" I said softly, still gripping the paper in my lap tight:

Sollux starts to push my wheelchair forward and to the right. He grunted, complaining, "Fuck, I've never pushed on of these before."

"Oh, I-I can move myself if you want," I offer.

"Nah, its cool…it's the least I can do considering you got an Italian freak by your side."

That… that's a little harsh, but I still laugh at it to pretend that I agree. Gamzee isn't a freak at all, he's just… eccentric?

* * *

><p>Having a whole dorm to yourself has its advantages. It means that you don't have to tell anyone where you're going, and you know that no one's going to touch your stuff. However, it also means that you are alone in a dorm, which is kind of weird to get used to. It doesn't matter very much tonight, though. Tonight is movie night with Gamzee and some of his friends in his dorm. I haven't been told what we're watching, but we decided last night to have this movie night every Monday night because Mondays suck and deserve to be improved by a good movie with good bros. Movie night is going to be a good way to wind down. Plus, Gamzee and I have the same first afternoon class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so we can stay up as late as we want to.<p>

I decide to change into something not as formal as I would for classes. I only dressed in a sweater vest and dress pants for school – I don't know, it just seems weird to go to class in anything too casual, I guess – something that Sollux apparently disagrees with, judging by his attire. It would be stupid to wear that for a movie night with Gamzee and two of his friends.

While I'm looking for a clean shirt to wear, my phone goes off with a text message from Vriska, obvious to me without even having to look because of the ring tone: 'Spiderwebs' by No Doubt.

I sigh and looked over to the table which my phone is sitting on. I turn my wheelchair from my drawer and wheel myself over to desk to pick it up, opening the flip-screen device to read her message.

'Hey Taaaaaaaav! How's college treating you?'

'Just fine, Vriska. Thanks for asking.'

I pause before sending the message, wondering if I should tell Vriska about my hair or not. It would certainly be a good conversation starter.

'So I got a haircut today…' I typed at the end, hesitating when sending the message.

'WOW! It must look gr8! "

'I guess it does? Would you like a picture?'

'Why, of course, baby brother!'

I breathe a relieved sigh, smiling. At least she didn't outright reject my choice – not like it would have changed anything, I mean, my hair was already sheared off, it's not like I can get it back.

I start to get the camera ready for a picture of my haircut. Before I could, another message from Vriska came in.

'I don't have all day, Tav!'

I sigh and hit the 'end' button because I didn't want to reply just yet. I have a picture to take, gosh darn-it.

I'm not the best with phones so it takes me a few tries to take the picture. I kept accidentally takeing pictures of my lap or only my forehead. I finally manage to get one of me half-smiling with the mohawk falling in the way of my right eye. I really hope Vriska likes it. I might send it off to Gamzee as well to surprise him.

I send it off to Vriska and wait for her to reply, and I make sure to send it to Gamzee as well. I think he's in class right now, but he'll look at it afterwards. He should be out any minute now. He's going to come by my dorm anyway so we can start this movie night, but I figure might as well give him a warning of what he's going to see.

Vriska didn't reply right away, so I roll my way back over to my drawers and start to look for another shirt to wear. I wanted a shirt that says 'I love movie night' but also 'it's not like I was waiting for movie night all day or something like that.' While I was thinking about this, a reply from Vriska comes.

'You don't look half bad with that! I wonder what mom would say.'

'I'm sure that she'd like it. I think dad will love it.'

'I am sure he will too, Tavros!'

I don't know how to reply to that. I'm hoping that the conversation would end right here. I had to get ready, and Vriska doesn't seem herself and it's getting kind of awkward for me to talk to her. Oh look, another message.

'So, what else is new? Is that Gamzee boy still bugging you?'

'Gamzee is just fine. He's not a bother to me at all.'

'He is a bother, Tav, and we all know it.'

'You don't know him like I do Vriska'

'And I plan to keep it that way.'

I sigh, still wondering why she doesn't want to get to know Gamzee. He isn't as bad as everyone says he is.

I just stare at the phone for a little while, not sure what to say to her. It kind of hurts, to be honest. He's my best bro…

Vriska has never liked Gamzee and there's probably no way to change that. At first, Gamzee seems to be this guy that's really out there, only daydreaming about stuff that might never happen. But, once you get to know him and everything, it's obvious that he's a good person. He's always dreaming about what he could do or what might happen next and it makes him confident and optimistic. I've only ever seen him have a bad day once in all the years I've known him.

I decide that I might as well end the conversation formally, 'Well, goodnight Vriska. Gamzee and I are going to watch a movie or something tonight.'

'Stay away from him, Tavros. He's a BAD influence on you!'

'But he's not on drugs anymore…'

'Doesn't matter! Once an addict, always an addict!'

'He's not an addict. '

It's not like I want to get rid of her or anything, but I have to get ready for movie night. On top of the hurry, she was saying bad things about my best bro. I can't handle that right now.

She doesn't respond for a while after that. She must have given up on the fight. I sigh and begin to look for a shirt again. But then my phone rang again. I'm going to be sitting in my wheelchair topless all night if this keeps up! I slouched annoyed.

"Vriska, come on…" I told myself. "I have to get ready…" Part of me really felt that she could hear me.

'You're too naïve to realize that he is! You only see from the outside, the only part that you can see. You never look into people's hearts or into their minds! You never see what people are truly made of! Once you can do that, you might see the truth of what he really is! He's just a pot head that wants to bring you down, baby brother! I'm here to make sure that never happens!'

I groan, irritated. Yes, she is my older sister and yes, I always take her advice, and always have. Just, she's been saying all this stuff about Gamzee ever since she saw him doing drugs _once_. And that was five years ago. She won't let it go.

'Well, thanks, I guess. But I don't think Gamzee would do that to me, since I'm his best bro and all.'

'One day you will see, and you will THANK me DEARLY for warning you, baby brother. I care about you. you know that, right?'

'I know you care about me. But, I'm in college now and I can take care of myself.'

'But you are still so naïve, Tavros. I'm here to make sure you don't fuck up again!'

'Again?'

And with that, she stopped texting me altogether that night.

It was so weird. No matter what good I said about Gamzee and no matter what Gamzee did for her, Vriska would always have something bad to say about him, whether it was his hair or what he did in high school years before. It was really starting to bug me. Gamzee is a member of the family and my best bro. One day I will tell Vriska that she should shut her mouth! I'm just… not sure how I'll go about doing that.

I can't stop thinking about what she meant by 'again', though, and it remains at the edge of my mind while I finally sort out my clothes.


End file.
